


The Path to Recovery

by fandom_explosion



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Amanda is Autistic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Dysphoria, Cussing, Gender Dysphoria, Happy Hand Flap Stimming, Ibuprofen, Lucien has a good relationship with dadsona, M/M, Medication, Past Sexual Assault, Past physical abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Dadsona (Dream Daddy)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_explosion/pseuds/fandom_explosion
Summary: Dante (dadsona) has been having PTSD episodes more frequently than usual, and as a result, his life is becoming harder to navigate. His dysphoria also being a factor in his struggles, his stresses make one day turn into one big mess. Starting with having a PTSD episode first thing in the morning, with Amanda guiding him out of it, he tries to go through the rest of his day with Damien, attempting to cope with what his mind keeps trying to push to the forefront of his mind.
Relationships: Damien Bloodmarch/Dadsona
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	The Path to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> This work touches on PTSD and body dysphoria. The descriptions will be in less-than-exact detail of physical abuse, sexual assault, as well as chest and gender dysphoria. If any of these topics may disturb you or trigger you, I'd advise you to avoid this work, even if you're a little unsure. I know from personal experience how media like this might impact a person, so read at your own discretion.

Dante's alarm went off, the usual irritatingly loud noise giving him a gracious awakening from his semi-restful slumber. He takes a moment of groggy silence before haphazardly reaching over to his phone that laid resting on the nightstand, taking multiple failed attempted before he managed to silence the persistent sound. He laid there, exhausted from his six hours of sleep and letting his ears appreciate the silence for just a little longer.

As the silent symphony played on, he felt a headache starting to come on. _This is what I get for getting older, isn't it? _he thinks with a sigh. He actively avoids an internal monologue about his body aches and pains from being a dad, and instead slowly drags himself out of bed. He momentarily feels light-headed as his body re-adjusts to him being upright and mobile again, slowly shuffling his way to the bathroom. He flipped the bathroom light switch on, wincing as his eyes hurt to get used to the sudden bright light. The eye strain made it feel like he was going to go blind.

Once his feelings of being lightheaded and painful eye strain subsided, he looked at himself in the mirror. His shoulder-length curly hair looked especially frizzy this morning, and his skin was definitely ashy. He made sure to keep in mind to lotion up before he left home to do his errands. It was also hard for him to ignore his chest from beneath his over-sized t-shirt. He didn't feel especially bothered by it today, but he definitely wasn't going to go outside without his binder on.

Shaking his thoughts away, he opened the medicine cabinet and took out a bottle of ibuprofen, observing the label for the directions. He unscrewed the cap, took out two pills, popped them into his mouth, and swallowed them dry. He turned on the faucet and used a cupped hand to drink some water to ease the pills down a little easier. _Please work quickly_, he hoped as he turned the water off. After screwing the cap back on, he put the bottle away and closed the medicine cabinet with a heavier sigh than before.

Something felt strange to him today, but he couldn't place it. He paid no mind to it, merely brushing it off. _I'm probably just overthinking things, I'm fine._ Whenever he was with Damien during his more anxious moments, his lover's calm demeanor helped to keep him grounded, silently reminding him that his anxieties blows situations to be much more out of proportion than how they wind up being in the end.

Dante continued to get ready for the day: taking a shower, putting lotion his now-not-ashy body, shaving his face, and brushing his teeth. While keeping the toothbrush in his mouth, he fussed with the towel quite a bit so it would stay in place as he made his way to the closet. It was time for him to pick out his dadly attire for the day. He settled on an all-black look: black t-shirt, hoodie, binder, mustache themed underwear, jeans, and black converse. Amanda would never let him _not_ own a pair of black converse, but Dante managed to adapt it into his looks, which wasn't that hard for him to pull off. After all, he was an emo teen in his prime. There was also a packer thrown into the mix, but not only was it not black, but not many people would really notice it anyways.

He walked the outfit back into the bathroom and hung it up on the back of the bathroom door so he could finish brushing his teeth. Afterwards, he hung up his towel and donned his outfit of the day. He began thinking aloud, "Maybe I should invite Damien over so he could give me a makeover..." He has been feeling a pull recently to go back to his roots from his teen years. Punk isn't dead in his eyes, and neither was the makeup styles.

A sharp pang of guilt hit him. _Guys can wear makeup... It happens all of the time! Trans men can wear makeup too. Damien does it all of the time, and no one looks at him differently. It's alright. You're overthinking again_. Dante shook his head to try and shake away his thoughts as he went to his nightstand to send the text.

> _Good morning, Dames! I was wondering if you were up, did you want to help me with a makeup look? I think I want to wear some today, but I don't have anything to work with. I also forgot how to use eyeliner or eye shadow without poking an eye out._

After shoving his phone into one of his jean pockets, he went back into the bathroom so he could do his hair.

_Should I put it in a bun? Maybe in a ponytail? Hm..._

As he contemplated what to do with his hair, a cold shiver shot up his spine, making his body go completely still.

A feeling of dread quickly began building up, his eyes going wide. His eyes looked at the mirror, checking to see if anyone else was in the bathroom with him.

_There can't be someone behind me. I'm looking in the mirror. No one is there except me. Come on, calm down. It's fine, she isn't here-_

He cuts his own thoughts off as he lets out a quick scream, quickly falling to the floor and pushing his back against the cabinets. He turned his head to look around the bathroom rapidly, bringing his legs closer to his body with each passing second. He repeated aloud more times than he could count, "No one is here," and, "I'm safe." After a point, he began hyperventilating, feeling as though someone was there that shouldn't be there. Logically, he was aware that no one but him was in his room, including the bathroom. However, he wasn't in the mental state to fully convince his brain that he was alone. All he could do was feel the dread building up in his body, tears starting to build up in his eyes, his hands having a strained grip on his hair, and his mind becoming consumed by anxiety.

He stopped breathing immediately, his heartbeat growing faster as he heard two soft knocks coming from outside his bedroom door.

"Dad? Are you alright?" Amanda said in a soft, yet very noticeably worried voice.

Dante tried to compose himself for his daughter, saying shakily through his panic, "Y-yeah, I'm fine, it's nothing to worry about Amanda. I-I'll be fine."

"Can I come in?" She asked, not seeming all that convinced by his words.

With a nod, he said still very shaken up, "Yes, y-you can come in."

She slowly opened the door, closing the door behind her, and found her father sitting on the bathroom floor, panic written in his eyes and posture. Amanda knew not to make any sudden movement so she wouldn't unnecessarily cause him any further undue anxiety. She approached him at a slow pace, got down to his level, and said in a comforting voice, "I'm the only one here, Dad, aside from you. It's just us. You're safe, Dad."

Dante felt as though his ability to speak was taken away from him, but he knew that he could communicate that he needed a hug. He opened his arms, and Amanda gave him a comforting hug. Dante's arms wrapped around her's, his face buried into her shoulder. He let the tears fall down his face, his anxiety slowly beginning to dissipate. His daughter was there for him, no matter how pitiful his situation was. _She shouldn't have to help me like this... She's just a kid. I should be able to handle myself... But I can't... Fucking PTSD, I hate this!_

"Dad," Amanda said calmly, "I know that this is very hard for you. I don't know what it's like for you, but know that there are people that are willing to listen to you. It doesn't have to be just me, but you could talk to Damien, maybe, or use one of those phone lines. I'm sure there are people that can help you out, I promise."

He nodded, letting Amanda go from the embrace and wiping the tears from his face. "Thanks Amanda, really. It's just... it'd be really hard to be vulnerable like that with people over the phone. Also, it'd probably be unethical for me to talk with you about my issues. I don't want to burden you with too much, you know? It's... hard." He looked down, unsure of what else to say.

Amanda gave an understanding nod. "You know, that's what my anxiety and depression tells me, the not talking to other people about my problems thing. That's why you got me that therapist, to try things out. I'm not saying that you have to go back to therapy for anything, but it might be a good idea if you were down with it again." She held out her hand in case he wanted to hold it, and he did. "Growing up wasn't easy for me without Papa, but I know that with you, Dad, you did your best to take care of me. Don't be afraid to take care of yourself, too."

Dante felt a dull pain in his heart, knowing that she was right. He was aware of how hard it was for her to grow up with Sean suddenly gone from her life, which is why he got her and himself a therapist not long after he passed on. However, he decided to distance himself from it eventually because he needed to save some money, but he let Amanda keep going since she needed the support. He wanted to make sure that she was okay. He also needed to take care of himself.

He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He gave a sincere nod. "You're right... It's going to take me some time to get everything situated again with a new therapist, but I think I can do it."

She put a supportive hand on her father's shoulder. "There's no 'I think' about it. You _**can**_do it, and I know you will. I've always got your back Dad, okay?"

He gave another nod, and silently held out his arms for another hug from his sweet daughter. Amanda gave him one more hug, the both of them riding it out for as long as he needed until he let go. "Thanks Manda Panda," he said with a smile, "I think I can keep going like this now."

The two of them stood back up and he patted Amanda's back. "You should head on down to school. I don't want you to be late because of me, alright sweetheart?"

"No problem, Dad. Say... Can I drive the car this time?" She said with the biggest smile.

_Oh no, she's not gonna pull the-_

She starts pulling the puppy dog eyes look. She really wants to drive the car this time. She's licensed, but after last time, the both of them nearly got into a wreck because she accidentally accelerated instead of pulling the brakes.

"I dunno Amanda, maybe-"

She manages to intensify the puppy dog eye look. She _definitely_ inherited that from her other father.

He chuckled, patting Amanda's head. "Fine, fine, you can drive this time."

"FU- I mean, HECK YEAH!" She said while pumping her fist into the air.

"Nice save, kiddo," He said while giving her a side-eye.

Once Amanda gathered everything that she needed for school and Dante pulled his hair in a low ponytail, his daughter nabbed a piece of toast for the road and the two of them got into the car.

* * *

Dante felt a buzz in his pocket as he was driving to the store after Amanda drove herself to school. In his mind, he knew that it was a bad idea to text and drive, so he waited until he reached a red light before he pulled out his phone to read the message. He looked joyful seeing that Damien responded to his message.

> _Hello my dearest. I do apologize for not sending a response sooner. I was tending to my garden and had to drop Lucien off at school. In response to your message, I would be more than delighted to help you with your makeup today! I know that I may be rather late in responding, but whenever you have the time today, I should be able to visit you and help you out._

Dante really enjoyed reading Damien's messages. It was as if he could hear his voice through his eloquently-typed words. He typed out a response.

> _I should be back at the house a little after an hour from now since I have to do some grocery shopping first. I'll hopefully see you then, Dames. I love you!_

He pressed send, and by the time he looked back up, he saw the car in front of him already halfway across the intersection. "Crap!" He pushed the gas pedal and tried to make up for the few seconds that he lost so he didn't irritate the drivers behind him.

He eventually arrived at the local store, Mall Mart, which was essentially a mini-mall, but had a nicely-sized grocery department inside. It was very convenient.

By the time he was inside, he realized that he forgot to bring a shopping list with him, but he shrugged it off, assuming that he could figure it all out on his own. He had a good idea of what he needed for the house anyways. He took a shopping cart and began wheeling it around the different aisles, taking a close look at whatever might be potential fit for the refrigerator, freezer, or pantry at home.

As he was inspecting the quality of some Fuji Apples, he felt a sensation on his chest that made his body tense, his breath stop, and gave him the impulse to start squirming. He didn't squirm, but he was holding back with every fiber of his being so he wouldn't wind up making a scene in the middle of the store. It felt as though someone was touching his chest, in a way that was only meant to violate him, but he was very aware that no one was doing so. No one was in front of him nor behind him. No hand were visible.

He put the fruit back while processing what he was going through.

It wasn't dysphoria. Dysphoria felt more like insects swarming about his chest while they where simultaneously suffocating. This sensation in question felt as though someone was sensually grabbing at his chest, the feeling of the touch alone causing his body pain.

This was him re-living someone groping him from years ago.

He really tried not to dwell on this in the middle of the store, but it was really hard not to when it felt like the almost-imagined physical contact was giving him a strange type of pain. He tried really hard to push the thoughts out of his head, deciding to cut his grocery trip short. He used the self-checkout booth, brought them out to his car, and headed straight home.

He wasn't enjoying how he his PTSD was being uncharacteristically present today.

By the time he arrived home, the sensations seemed to have died down. They weren't completely gone, but it was as good as it was going to get for now. He got out of the car, unloaded his groceries, and made his way inside of his home. He went back outside to lock his car, and to his surprise, he saw Damien standing beside his vehicle, giving him a wave and a smile.

"Good morning, darling," he said, holding up a portable makeup bag in his other hand.

_Fuck, I forgot that he was coming over later... Maybe he can help me to keep my mind off of things. It wouldn't hurt to let him spend some time here._

He went up to Damien, giving him a tight hug. "Good morning, Dames. I'm so glad to see you," he said doing his best to mask his overall discomfort for his life experiences of the day.

Damien didn't seem to pick up on Dante's front and returned his hug enthusiastically. "I do hope I didn't come too soon. If you still need to settle in-"

"Actually, I just came back with groceries. Did you want to help me put those away first? Afterwards, we can help me with the makeover," he said with a smile.

Damien was sightly confused from being cut off mid-sentence, but nodded. "That's no problem. Lead the way!"

* * *

Groceries were put away. Dad jokes were exchanged. What else could a couple of dads do to pass the time?

Dante leaned back against a kitchen counter, looking lovingly into Damien's eyes. "Has anyone told you how wonderful you look? Not just when you're in your goth attire, but 24/7. No matter what time of day it is, you always look... stunning."

He could see Damien's face going red from embarrassment, but he enjoyed the compliments. "Thanks, Dante, you're really sweet. In fact, I'd say that you, yourself, are quite a sight. I never get tired of seeing you," he said approaching Dante, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist. Dante began blushing, a flustered smile gracing his face.

_Look at what you started Dante... Well, I'm not complaining, actually. Let's milk this and see how far this_ _goes._

Damien gives Dante a loving kiss, then pulls away, letting go of Dante. "Now, are we going to give you a dazzling look today or what?"

_Darn it. Maybe some other time. _"It's now or never Dames," Dante said with a chuckle.

They made their way to his bathroom where Damien unzipped his makeup kit and spread all of the materials out on the bathroom counter. Damien saw the look of confusion cover Dante's face and said, "If you ever wanted to skip out on anything like eye shadow, contouring, or anything else, feel free to let me know and I'll be able to adjust your look to it, alright?" He was fully prepared to help Dante out, and which really touched his boyfriend's heart.

Dante laughed. "It's not an emo look if there isn't eye shadow involved, but that's not why I was confused. It's just that I don't recognize some of what I'm seeing. Usually when I was in high school and college, the only makeup that I used was some black eyeliner and some black eye shadow."

"Oh, that's why? Well, makeup has indeed changed with time, but it's nothing that I can't explain to you, love. Were you looking for just black makeup today?" Dante could see Damien get excited, knowing very well how he's going to explain every step of the way to him.

Dante nodded, and Damien began observing the other's face to asses what the look would wind up turning up to be. _What a wonderful boyfriend that I have... I really got lucky to have him in my life. He's so passionate about the things that he enjoys and is so willing to share those interests with me. He puts so much trust in me... have I put the same amount of trust in him, too?_

His boyfriend's voice interrupted his thoughts as he said, "Alright, so I'm going to test some of the foundation colors on your skin just to see which shade suits you best. I absolutely couldn't imagine accidentally making your face appear as though you're a ghost."

Dante stifled a laugh. Considering how dark his skin was compared to Damien's, it _definitely_ would appear strange if he were to wind up with really pale makeup on his face. Damien saw him holding back his laugh, and smiled. "You know, you _can_ laugh at that." The permission definitely gave him the push to give out a lighthearted laugh. They both knew that he was right.

After testing some colors on the back of Dante's hand, they found the best color. "That's wonderful. Thank heavens Mat asked for makeup assistance before or else we wouldn't have any of these colors on hand."

That thought stuck Dante as odd. Not odd in a "guys shouldn't wear makeup" way, but rather in a "I never expected him to wear makeup" way. The more that he thought about it, the more believable it was for him. After all, he _does_ believe that punk isn't dead. _Maybe it isn't so weird that trans guys can also wear makeup..._

"Dante, look this way for me," he says so Dante's face isn't tilted towards the floor, stuck deep in thought. This was a trait that he had that made things really awkward for him a lot, but he complied, looking straight forward as Damien began applying moisturizer to Dante's face. Once that step was over, he began applying primer to his face, and explained the makeup process to Dante in the process. "You see, primer helps the makeup to stay on your face easier and not 'melt off' as Mat likes to put it," he said with a chuckle.

"I never thought that makeup could melt off of a person's face. After all, wouldn't makeup potentially be the one _doing _ the melting?"

Damien paused, thinking on it for a moment. "Unless the ingredients contained unsafe chemicals, I wouldn't expect makeup to do that to a person's face... That's actually quite an image that's in my mind now. Thanks for that, Dante."

"You're welcome," he said with a playful wink. The two of them shared a laugh as Damien resumed his work.

Not long after, he began to apply foundation onto Dante's face. "Now, I essentially use foundation to help keep my face an even color. However, your face is already fairly even, color-wise. It's a good idea to blend the color past the cheeks and under your chin so it the color on your face doesn't abruptly change when other's see the rest of your face. Trust me, I've learned that during my years in high school," he finished with a sigh and a had to his face.

"That must've been quite the time to learn about makeup while growing up, huh?" Dante said, generally poking fun at how high school is a place where criticism is thrown whether the person expects it or not with varying degrees of cruelty.

"Oh most definitely. Sometimes, the other kids wouldn't hold back, which... hurt to say the least, but I'm sure that they have grown since then."

"And if not?"

"Hush, darling. Let me give them the benefit of the doubt."

Dante held back another laugh so he wouldn't mess up Damien's work on his face.

Once everything was blended, Damien whips out some highlighter and some darker colored makeup. "What highlighter does is help your face to make certain features more prominent. Sometimes it's used to accentuate the cheekbones or jawline, but it's really up to the individual. The darker makeup is to help make your facial features more defined, which is called contouring. Is there any specific look you wanted to go for?"

Dante thought for a moment, then something came to mind. "Is it possible to use makeup to make my face look more masculine?"

Damien nodded, surprised. "If there's a will, there's a way. In fact, that's part of why I wear makeup, especially on days when I feel especially dysphoric. Trust me, I can make it work for you. Now, hold still. I'm going to apply the highlighter now."

He stayed still as Damien highlighted his cheekbones, parts of his jawline, and nose. He also applied some of the darker shades around his eyes to give his eyes more of a "sunken" look, sharpened his jawline, and made his cheekbones more angular. Once he was done with that, Damien said, "Now close your eyes, here comes the fun part."

"Are you sure it's fun?"

"Do you want me poking out your eyes with the brushes?"

"Fair point."

As he applied a tasteful amount of black eye shadow and eyeliner around his eyes, Dante began thinking. _I really enjoy this time with Damien. I know a bit more about what he does on most days. I guess we're more connected now in that sense. Honestly, t__his isn't as odd as I thought it would be. This is actually pretty fun, especially since Damien is here with me to tell me all about it._

Damien stood back, observing everything so far. With a nod, he said, "Okay, so we're going to apply some setting spray. All that it does is make sure that the makeup lasts longer on your face and doesn't rub off easily. It does take a little bit to dry, though."

"Spray as much as you need to."

Damien smiled and finished his work. He set a timer so the makeup could dry, and the two passed the time by talking.

The makeup artist started it off with, "So, what got you thinking about applying makeup all of a sudden?"

Dante thought back on it, then it came back to him. "I guess since today's look reminded me of my college days in the emo scene, I wanted to try the look out again. Since I didn't have anything on hand, I thought that I'd ask you. Besides, you wear it often, and I thought that you'd know enough about it to get me started again."

The other gave a toothy smile. "I'm so glad that you came to me. I really do think that you'll like the final results once the setting spray has dried."

"I really think so too," he said. The pang of guilt returned again, which made his joyful demeanor falter. Damien immediately caught sight of it once it happened.

"Is something the matter, love?" Damien asked with a look of concern.

Dante didn't want his boyfriend to worry about his problems, so he waved it off by saying, "It's nothing, really."

He clearly wasn't buying it. "You don't have to hide anything from me. I'm always here to listen. However, I won't push you if you would rather not talk about it."

With those words, there was no reason for him to hold back how he was feeling _now_. He fiddled with his hands as he started, "Well... you know how it is being trans. I mean, for us, it's like we sorta have to look super masculine to the world or else we're faking it all, you know? I know that my entire being isn't boiled down to whether or not I can look like one of the most masculine manly-men in the world. Regardless, it makes it all feel like a sick competition to see how far you have to push masculinity on yourself before society deems you a man, you know? It makes me feel... guilty in a way. I feel like I can't be the least bit feminine without something inside of me telling me that no one will take me seriously or that maybe I'm just... 'faking it.'"

Damien's heart hurt upon hearing those two final words. He could see Dante looking away, clearly ashamed of admitting his innermost thoughts. Damien rest a hand on his partner's knee, saying in a gentle and comforting voice, "Dante, look at me, please." Reluctantly, he did, Damien seeing tears beginning to well up in his eyes. His heart began to ache even further. He continued on, "I know what that's like. I've been there. Heck, some of the insults hurled at me throughout high school were people illegitimizing my gender identity because of how I decided to decorate my face. I'll openly admit that western society pushes men, cis or otherwise, to reject femininity at the expense of their true self-expression. When they reject how they would like to express themselves, it hurts themselves since they have to continue putting up a façade that serves no one but the outside world. Society needs to change, not yourself." Tears began to glide down Damien's face. "There is no need for you to have to hold back any way that you'd like to express yourself. You're no less of a man because you wear makeup, put on nail polish, or even throw on a dress. If cisgender men can put on dresses without being automatically assigned as a trans women, then what gives others the right to reject us our gender identity because us trans men decide to do something feminine for once in our _damn_ lives?"

"Damien," the other said, resting a hand on top of the other's, "I'm so sorry that you're getting worked up about this. I shouldn't have brought it up-"

"_It's not your fault_," he said firmly. He took a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself down some. "I got lucky by having a naturally more masculine build and starting testosterone sooner than other trans masculine people could say. However, the moment that someone finds out that I'm trans, they'll do whatever they can to pick out any feminine features. They'll go to my hips or point out things about my face that look even the slightest bit feminine, or how my hands are the tiniest bit more slender than most other mens'. Do any of those feminine features make me less of a man? No. That's why, in my eyes, no matter what your body says, or how you dress yourself, you are no less of a man than I am."

The alarm went off, abruptly intruding on their heart-to-heart moment. Damien reluctantly turned off the alarm and patted his boyfriend's knee. "Shall we turn to the mirror and see the final result?"

Dante nodded and turned to the mirror. And he **_loved_** it. He realized in that moment that makeup could definitely help to make his facial features more masculine, which he feared makeup wouldn't end up doing. He also loved the all-black makeup matching with his all-black outfit. Everything about the look was wonderful, and he turned to Damien with a face of awe. "I can't believe that I look like this with makeup! This is amazing, and you did such a wonderful job. I gotta take a photo and show Amanda later! I really love it, honey," he said, hugging Damien, tightly. He returned the hug, stroking his partner's curly hair.

"I'm so glad you enjoy it, love," Damien said in an adoring voice. He truly did appreciate how his work helped to lift his lover's spirits.

Once Dante let go from the hug, he rubbed his neck nervously. "I'm sorry that I unloaded all of that on you, though... I didn't mean to have that spill out, at least not now."

Damien shook his head in disagreement. "No, the one who should be apologizing is me. I ended up monologuing, and I probably could have said what needed to be said in less words. However, I still hold to what I said. You are a man if you say so. You have been Amanda's father for so many years, and regardless of the fact that you came out when you were twenty two, you are a man and always will be. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, or else they will have more than just an earful from me."

Dante took both of Damien's hands in his own, giving him a long and loving kiss. This time, tears fell down both of their faces. The love and support for one another was overwhelming, and neither of them can stand seeing the other in pain, let alone struggle with internalized issues due to performative masculinity. Once the two parted from their kiss, Dante chuckled. "You got a little something there," he said while gesturing to Damien's face even though nothing was there.

He began blushing, and checked the mirror. No markings were found. Damien turned to Dante with a crooked smile, then began peppering kisses all over Dante's face. "And I think you have kisses all over your face," he said while lightly pinching the other's face.

This was definitely a moment to be cherished.

* * *

The two spent the remaining time at Dante's home before their kids needed to be picked up from school. They both rode in Damien's car, picking up both of the kids. Amanda was jazzed to see Damien with her dad this time. "Hey, wassup Damien!"

"I'm doing alright, how about you Amanda?" he asked with a smile.

She got herself all situated in the back seat of the car, responding with, "Same-old, same-old."

Lucien came over to the car, and saw both Dante and Amanda in the car. He gave a half-smile, seeing everyone together in the car. He got inside, pulling out an earbud. "Sup Dante?"

"Not a lot, honestly... except," he turned around in his seat, the makeup still on his face. Both of the kids' jaws dropped.

Lucien said, "Dude, you look great!"

Amanda agreed with a lot of happy hand-flapping. "Lucien's right, you totally look amazing! How did you do that? I swear I never saw you with makeup before."

Dante felt confident, looking at Damien. "Damien helped me out on this one, actually. He helped me with updating my makeup methods from my college days, and by that reaction, he did a ten out of ten job."

Damien playfully rolled his eyes at Dante, then told the kids, "Don't forget to buckle up, everyone. We don't know how much rubber will be burned because of Dante's new rebellious look."

"I'll have you know, I actually fired a flaming tennis ball at a police station back when Amanda was six," he said with a serious look on his face.

Amanda began laughing. "I remember that story! We had to get Papa to convince the police that you didn't mean to _actually_ hit the police station."

Damien and Lucien looked at Dante with shock. Lucien mentally noted that Dante was, in fact, a badass. Damien, on the other hand, is just bewildered that Dante had a close brush with prison for arson. He asks, "Please tell me that you don't do that anymore."

"Oh, of course not, but it was definitely one hell of an experience," he said with a laugh.

Damien sighed, putting a hand on his face. He's dating this man, but at what cost? He doesn't take it _that_ seriously, but it definitely makes him wonder what other illegal things he may have done before he came to the cul de sac. To shift the conversation from arson, he asks everyone in the car, "How about we have dinner at my house? I'll be making spaghetti, Amanda's favorite."

Amanda's happy hand flaps makes a comeback. "For real? Dad, please, can we go?"

"Well, since I'm the driver, I say... let's do it!"

And off they went to Damien's home.

* * *

Dante had a wonderful time enjoying dinner with everyone at Damien's house. He really enjoyed the atmosphere Damien's home gave off. Lucien was more vocal at dinner tonight since Amanda was there to talk about the fight that broke out on campus. Damien was very much in shock that there was a fight, but both he and Dante were relieved to hear that the altercation was stopped before anyone actually got hurt. The two students involved seemed to have gotten suspended, however. Lucien was about to show a video of the fight, but Damien asked him to keep his phone put away instead. His son begrudgingly stuffed his phone back into his pocket, disappointed that Dante couldn't see how the fight went down.

Once everyone was finished with dinner, Dante volunteered to help Damien with dishes. Damien really appreciated the offer and let him dry and put the dishes away while he scrubbed away at the dishes.

"Have you always been the type to help around the house?" Damien asked, genuinely curious.

Dante thought about it, shrugging. "I guess I always liked cleaning. Besides, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't do my part in helping keep up with the house? It shouldn't just be one person's job."

The other smiled and nodded. "You do make a rather good point. It's not much of a partnership if the other person or persons aren't putting in the effort."

"What if none of them put in the effort, though?" Dante asked while putting away the pots and pans.

Damien had to think for a moment. "Then, I guess they'd have one messy home to clean up, eventually." He resumed his dish washing, starting to further contemplate how messy a relationship would have to be before the home become so messy that one wouldn't be able to see the floor.

He went to put a plastic cup away, agreeing, "Yeah, I guess that's true-"

The sensations were there again on his chest, and his binder was off now. The lack of compression made the situation more discomforting. He crossed his arms and pressed them against his chest to try and make the feeling stop. It only helped the slightest bit, however it wasn't working like he hoped it would. He felt his body beginning to tense as he tried to force his feelings deep down again.

_This feels so gross... Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop-_

Damien took note of the abruptly-ended sentence, turning to him. "Dante? Is everything alright?"

Dante struggled to shake his head in silence, trying to hold back the impulse to scream. He pressed his arms against his chest harder, the feeling not wanting to subside. After pushing through his discomfort enough to speak, he managed to stutter out, "I... I think I'm ha-having-having a PTSD epi-pisode..."

Damien's eyes went wide, turning off the faucet. He hadn't dealt with anything like this before. Worry began building up in his body. "Is there anything that I can do to help you?"

Dante's breathing started to become slightly labored. "I... don't th-think so... I don't know..." He began to feel his mind begin scattering, and within moments, he went silent, his face holding nothing but an empty expression.

"... Dante?" Damien took off his gloves, growing increasingly worried for the other. He knew something was wrong, but there wasn't anything that he could think of to help. The blank expression on Dante's face made him wonder if things were only going to get worse.

Expressions returned to his face in time. However, he looked thoroughly distressed. Tears began to build up in his eyes as he began sliding down to the floor, his back pressed hard against the counter. He began muttering repeatedly, "Please, don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me." His voice withered away into nothing but a slight whisper as his head hung low, tears falling down his face. Memories were resurfacing, and it hurt him in a way that was impossible for him to properly describe. With how intense the phantom sensations were becoming, every couple of moments, Dante's body jolted along with a small whimper. The memories were vivid, even though he was aware it wasn't _actually _ happening. His mind continued to aggressively remind him of his trauma.

Damien was getting scared and called out in both nervousness and urgency, "Amanda! I need you right now!"

It didn't take long for Amanda to come downstairs. "I didn't do somethin' wrong, did I-" Then she saw her eyes lock onto her father.

"Please, tell me what to do... I've never seen him like this." Tears were quickly welling up in his eyes. He wanted to help, but he knew that if he made the wrong move, he would likely make things worse.

Amanda nodded and said, "Just watch. You might need this for the future." She quietly approached her father, leaving a foot's distance between the two of them. She said calmly, "Dad, breathe, you're alright. You're safe here. It's just me and Damien. Slow breaths, okay? Breathe with me," and she began breathing in slow and calms breaths. Dante began to adjust his breathing to be in time with his daughter's. His body continued to have the occasional jolt.

He began saying barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do anything. Please, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop." In an instant, he went still, his eyes becoming unfocused, and his breath stopping. Within moments, he began to frantically make motions at his neck, as if he was pulling away someone's hands. In a loud voice, he began crying out, "Get off! Get off! Get off!"

Damien heard a creak from the stairs, turning his head to look. He saw Lucien, who appeared to be very concerned and slightly terrified. "Just stay there Lucien, alright?" He nodded his head, not wanting to become involved. He had no idea what was going on, and the strong reactions from Dante weren't helping him to ease his worries. He had never seen anything like this before.

When Damien's sight returned to Dante protectively having his hands around his own throat, his body shaking and curled up into a ball, his partner's heart began breaking every second that it went on. He watched as Amanda tried to calm her father again, attempting to say calmly, "Dad, no one is touching you. You're safe, you're going to be alright." She was trying her best to hold back her own worries. I wasn't easy for her to help her father out in situations like these.

Instead of Damien doing nothing, he said softly, "Dante, no one is there. It's just me and Amanda. You're safe, darling." And then he remembered something that he read some time back. "Can you tell me three things that you feel with your hands?"

Dante begins frantically rubbing his fingers. "Hands," he said simply in shaky voice. Then he pats a little harshly at the kitchen tiles. "Floor." Finally, he raised his head up to look for anything to touch. His eyes locked onto one of Damien's hands, reaching his own out, doing his best to lightly pat Damien's hands. "Damien." He managed to make eye contact with his worried partner, seeing the concern in his eyes. Dante hated that Damien had to see him like this. This was too vulnerable for himself and if he could stop, he would, but he it wasn't as simple as that. He had to ease himself out of it.

"Can you name four things that you see?" Damien asked, gently placing his other hand on top of Dante's.

Dante nodded and said, "Damien." He turned to his daughter. "Amanda." His eyes missed Lucien's presence on the stairs and instead focused on a rag draped over a drawer handle. "Rag, a rag." He looked at the floor. "Floor, it's the floor." _I can speak more now... It's getting better, right?_ Dante thought to himself.

"Now, can you list anything that you can hear?" Damien slowly and gently stroked his thumb across Dante's hand.

"Okay..." he replied in a low, reluctant voice. "Oh, my-my voice... and your's too... I th-th-think I hear the clock from the other-other room."

"That's very good, darling," he said, looking at Amanda, unsure of how to keep helping. She nodded, and calmly asked, "Dad, can you list the names of everyone that you see?"

"Um... Damien Bloodmarch. Amanda Ann Martin... a-and... Lucien Bloodmarch?" At this point, Dante noticed Lucien, who still stayed glued to the staircase. By now, his mental state was grounded enough to ask in a genuinely curious tone, "Lucien, what are you doing here?"

Lucien wasn't sure how to respond. He looked to his dad and Amanda for help, but all they did was look at him, waiting for an answer. Lucien sighed and came down the stairs, answering once he was with everyone, "I... Well, I heard you screaming, and I came to see what was going on..."

He nodded, shakily sighing. "I'm s-sorry that you had to see that... I didn't mean to scare you or any-anyone else..." He looked down, embarrassed since his episode made everyone concerned. "I..." He drew in a deep breath. "My PTSD... It's been acting-acting up a lot more than usual recently... I'm so sorry that I frightened you all. I wouldn't ever do this on pur-purpose. Never for attention... it just... happens. It scares me, too, and I'm so sorry that I scared you all, too."

Damien opened his arms silently, inviting Dante into a hug. He gladly hugged Damien, feeling safer in his lover's arms. Amanda also wrapped her hands around her father, planting a kiss on his cheek. Lucien, noticing a group hug forming, also joined in, but it was a little awkward for him.

The other father starts with, "Darling, I'm so sorry that you have been struggling. I'll do my best to support you."

Dante buried his face in his lover's chest. His stutters were eased when he replied, "Thank you so much, Damien. That really means a lot to me... I know that I should look into getting a therapist, but... it's a bit daunting. I haven't been to a therapist in years..." Damien nods, slowly running his fingers through the other's wavy hair.

Amanda said, "It's never too late to go back, Dad. They're there to help you. Sure, there's probably a lot to catch up on, but that's a part of therapy. Trust me, I've been there. It's hard changing therapists and having to re-explain my life story, but it's worth it. I believe in you, Dad."

Dante smiled, planting a kiss on Damien's forehead, a kiss on Amanda's cheek, and patting Lucien's back. "Thanks a lot, really. I might continue having a lot of these episodes for who knows how long. All that I ask is... well, to please work with me. It's not easy going through this. I'm sure it's not easy seeing it, either. It's really hard trying to recover from everything on my own."

Lucien said, "Who said recovery was easy? I know... a person in the neighborhood. He's a pretty cool guy, and he's a recovering alcoholic. Sometimes when I hang out with him, I ask about what recovery is like. Not to say that addiction is the same as PTSD, but recovering from things that changed your life for the worst, it probably isn't the easiest thing to go through for you, either. What I always remember him telling me is 'Kiddo, I hope you never go through the same rough shit that I go through, but if you ever do, just know that the road is gonna be rocky, but not impossible.' So... I guess what I'm trying to say is, you can do it, no matter how scary it looks."

"Thanks, Lucien," Dante said ruffling the young boy's hair. "I think I'm ready to get up now."

Everyone let go from the hug, letting Dante stand back up on his feet. Damien took one of Dante's hands in his own, suggesting, "If you'd like, you and Amanda could spend the night with us. It's entirely up to you, but know that our door is open if you ever need it."

Dante planted a kiss on Damien's cheek. "Thank you so much. I... think that might be a good idea right now. What do you think Amanda?"

"I'm totally down for that!" Amanda said, excitedly. She always enjoyed spending the night at Damien's house, especially with the atmosphere that had.

Damien smiled. "Then I guess it's settled. I think we should all get ready for bed, right?"

Lucien gave a sigh, but nodded. Amanda patted his back whispering into his ear, "They won't know we're awake if we put our screens' brightness on the lowest setting. Late-night gaming time!"

None of the dads caught onto the rebellion, and instead were already halfway up the stairs, the both of them more than ready to settle into bed and get some rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on the feedback that I get on this, I'll consider continuing with another chapter. I really think that this has potential to become a full-fledged story.
> 
> This took me about a month to write, so I really hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> P.S. - "Stuck on Replay" references how, in my experience, my PTSD episodes have my body and mind re-experience trauma, almost as if it was on loop.


End file.
